THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


HEART-SONG 


Folume  of  Fcrse 


BY 

ROBERT  MARSHALL  OFFORD 


NEW   YORK 

NEW    YORK    OBSERVER 
38  PARK  Row 


Copyright,  iBqs, 
BY  ROBERT  MARSHALL  OFFORD. 


SEm&ergitg 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.  S.  A. 


€be  Jttentis 

Who  bear  testimony  that  they  have  derived  help 

from  these  hymns  of  trust  and  hope  as  they 

have  appeared  in  the  columns  of 

the  New  York  Observer, 

This  little  volume  is  dedicated  by 

THE  AUTHOR. 


626021 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

THE  POET'S  DESIRE 7 

TRUST 8 

THE  HEAVENLY  GUEST 9 

SETTING  HOPES    ....         n 

"GIVE  THANKS  TO  GOD"     .....  12 

THE  FAITH  I  WANT 13 

THE  PENITENT'S  PLEA     . 15 

MY  WONDER 17 

LOVE'S  OFFERING 18 

JESUS  W'EPT 19 

PRECIOUS  MEMORIES 21 

"COME,  LET  Us  ALL,  REJOICING"  ...  22 

CHRIST  CRUCIFIED 23 

YOUR  HEAVENLY  FATHER  KNOWETH  .    .  25 

COVERED  OVER 26 

THE  WEEPING  SAVIOUR 27 

WHICH  SHALL  IT  BE  ? 29 


VI  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

FOLLOWING  JESUS 30 

THE  ANGELS'  STORY 32 

GOD  LIVES  AND  LOVES 33 

"ALL  THAT  THOU  SENDEST  ME"    ...  34 

LOVE'S  MYSTERY 36 

SOARING  UPWARDS 38 

THE  SEA'S  OWNER 39 

BLESSED  JESUS 40 

THE  HOUSE  OF  BREAD 41 

SAVE  ME  FROM  MYSELF! 42 

4 

THE  CHURCH'S  CRY 43 

THE  NEW  SONG 45 

THE  BREAD  AND  WINE 47 

No  MORE  SEA 49 

LOVE,  DYING  AND  UNDYING 51 

A  SONG  AT  MIDNIGHT 52 

NIGHT-FALL 54 

A  YEAR  UNTRIED 56 

CALLING 58 

LET  Us  BE  QUIET 60 

TIME  is  FLYING 61 

THE  CHILD  OF  BETHLEHEM 62 

OUR  FLEETING  YEARS 64 

SAMUEL  IREN.-EUS  PRIME 65 

THE  RISEN  LORD 67 


CONTENTS.  VI 1 

PAGE 

THEN  SHALL  I  KNOW 69 

ANOTHER  YEAR 70 

WHAT  MAKES  HEAVEN 72 

SLEEPING 74 

THE  SOUL'S  LAMENT 75 

THE  WONDROUS  CALL 77 

THANKSGIVING 79 

STILL  SINGING 80 

OPEN  THE  GATES 81 

JUNE 83 

JOYFUL  NEWS  TO  SOULS  FORLORN  ...    84 

MY  SAVIOUR'S  WORTH 85 

His  FATHER  SAW  HIM 87 

CARED  FOR 88 

WHY  ?       90 

FAREWELL  TO  CARE 93 

EASTER  GLEAMS 95 

PHILLIPS  BROOKS 97 

FORWARD  Go 99 

A  SONG  AND  A  SOUL ico 

BE  MERCIFUL  TO  ME 103 

UPHOLDING  THE  FALLEN 104 

WELL  MET 107 

DEATH'S  SUBMISSION 109 

EASTER  JOY 112 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

SEEKING  AFTER  GOD 113 

ONE  ONLY  WAY 114 

THE  CALL  ANSWERED 115 

O,  BLESS  THE  LORD! 116 

TRUST  IN  SHADOW  TIME 117 

FOR  You 119 

CHRIST  NEGLECTED 120 

FALLING  LEAVES 122 

THE  LIFE  I  SEEK 124 

LOVE'S  WAY 125 

THE  CRY  OF  THE  HUNGRY 126 

BLESSED  TEARS 127 

LET  Us  GIVE  THANKS 128 

THE  SEA  is  His      .........  130 

BE  STILL 132 

IN  THE  REALMS  OF  LIGHT 1-53 


INTRODUCTION. 


BY    REV.    THEODORE    L.    CUYLER,    D.D. 


little  volume  comes  from  the 
heart  of  a  faithful  servant  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  is  written  for  the  hearts  of 
those  who  "  know  Jesus,  and  are  known  of 
Him."  Whoever  opens  these  pages  ex 
pecting  to  discover  startling  novelties  of 
thought,  or  brilliancy  of  diction,  will  not 
find  them  here  ;  but  those  who  are  hungry 
for  spiritual  food  will  find  wholesome,  nour 
ishing  bread,  with  not  a  little  of  the  honey 
such  as  Jonathan  tasted  on  the  end  of  his 
rod  when  he  was  passing  through  the  for 
est.  Like  him,  they  will  find  their  "  eyes 
enlightened,"  and  their  spirits  cheered. 
Mr.  Offord  writes  in  the  same  vein  with 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

the  brothers  Bonar  and  Frances  Ridley 
Havergal,  and  aims  to  reach  the  same 
class  of  thoughtful  and  devout  souls.  If 
the  reader  will  turn  to  the  verses  entitled 
"The  Faith  I  Want,"  or  "Which  Shall  it 
Be?"  or  "  Open  the  Gates  !"  he  will  get 
a  taste  of  the  quality  of  the  book.  The 
temper  of  every  page  is  cheerful,  hopeful, 
helpful,  and  often  exhilarating.  Jesus  Christ 
is  exalted.  The  author  knows  no  other 
gospel  but  the  crucified  Son  of  God. 
Every  footprint  leads  to  the  Cross,  with  its 
ceaseless  music  of  redeeming  love.  For 
such  poetry  —  steeped  in  the  gospel  of 
grace,  born  of  a  deep  spiritual  experience, 
and  inspired  by  prayer  —  there  is  always 
room  in  Christian  hearts  ;  and  such  will 
give  a  welcome  to  these  verses. 

BROOKLYN,  August,  1895. 


Grateful  acknowledgment  is  hereby 
made  of  the  courtesy  of  Messrs.  HOUGH- 
TON,  MIFFLIN  6°  Co.  in  permitting  the 
publication  in  these  pages  of  a  number 
of  stanzas  from  Longfellow's  poem,  "  The 
Day  is  Done." 


Come,  read  to  me  some  poem, 
Some  simple  and  heartfelt  lay, 
That  shall  soothe  this  restless  feeling, 
And  banish  the  thoughts  of  day. 

Not  from  the  grand  old  masters, 
Not  from  the  bards  sublime, 
Whose  distant  footsteps  echo 
Through  the  corridors  of  Time. 

For,  like  strains  of  martial  music, 
Their  mighty  thoughts  suggest 
Life's  endless  toil  and  endeavor ; 
And  to-night  I  long  for  rest. 

Read  from  some  humbler  poet, 
Whose  songs  gushed  from  his  heart 
As  showers  from  the  clouds  of  summer 
Or  tears  from  the  eyelids  start. 

Who,  through  long  days  of  labor, 
And  nights  devoid  of  ease, 
Still  heard  in  his  soul  the  music 
Of  wonderful  melodies. 

Such  songs  have  power  to  quiet 
The  restless  pulse  of  care, 
And  come  like  the  benediction 
That  follows  after  prayer. 

H.  W.  LONGFELLOW. 


HEART-SONG. 


THE   POET'S    DESIRE. 

I  WOULD  dip  my  pen  in  the  sapphire  blue 
Of  the  arch  that  is  o'er  us  spread, 

I  would  write  the  love  of  my  God  so  true 
And  His  gift  of  our  daily  bread. 

I  would  dip  my  pen  in  the  sun's  bright  flame, 
As  it  chases  the  shades  of  night, 

And  the  Christ  of  God  to  the  world  proclaim 
As  the  only  enduring  light. 

I  would  dip  my  pen  in  the  Saviour's  tears, 
I  would  picture  His  tender  heart, 

Till  the  child  of  woe  should  forget  his  fears, 
And  be  healed  of  his  sorrow's  smart. 


8  TRUST. 

I  would  dip  my  pen  in  the  crimson  flood 
As  it  falls  from  the  tree  of  shame, 

Till  the  world  should  learn  of  the  cleansing 

blood, 
And  the  glorious  saving  name. 


TRUST. 

I  DO  not  ask  Thee,  Lord,  to  be  explaining 
The  many  mysteries  of  my  life  to  me ; 

I  only  ask  Thee,  Lord,  for  grace  sustaining 
To  bear  the  burden  which  seems  fit  to  Thee. 

I  am  content  to  trust  Thy  loving  leading  ; 

It  were  not  trust,  if  I  could  trace  the  way. 
No  good  thing  shall  this  life  of  mine  be 
needing; 

Thou  wilt  provide  the  manna  day  by  day. 


THE   HEAVENLY   GUEST. 

SEE,  O  soul,  there  standeth  at  thy  lowly  door 
One  whom  all  the  angels  worship  and  adore. 
Condescension  wondrous,  love  and  grace 

divine, 
Lo,  He  seeks  to  enter  that  poor  heart  of 

thine ! 

"  And  if  any  open,"  this  is  what  He  saith, 
He  whose  love  is  stronger,  stronger  e'en  than 

death, 

"  I  will  gladly  enter,  I  will  be  his  guest." 
Hasten,  soul,  to  open,  spread  for  Him  thy 

best. 

"  Ah !  Thou  Lord  of  glory,  naught  have  I 

for  fare ; 

Lo,  the  house  is  empty,  and  my  table  bare  : 
Long  my  soul  hath  eaten  only  husks  of  sin." 
Still  He  standeth,  calling :   "  Fain  would   I 

come  in; 


IO  THE  HEAVENLY  GUEST. 

"  Let    not    this   thy  straitness  thee  at    all 

distress ; 

I  who  fed  the  thousands  in  the  wilderness, 
I  who  turned  the  water  into  purple  wine, 
I  will  spread  to  fulness  that  scant  board  of 

thine. 

"  He  shall  never  hunger,  ne'er  by  want  be 

prest, 
He  hath  treasure  endless,  who  hath  Me  for 

guest ; 

He  whose  heart  I  enter,  heir  of  God  shall  be. 
Soul,  what  is  thine  answer,  what  say'st  thou 

to  Me  ?  " 

Lord,  I  bid  Thee  welcome,  while  the  flowing 

tears 
Tell  my  grief  and  sorrow  for  the  sin-spent 

years ; 
Lord,  Thou  hast  been  waiting  long  outside 

the  door, 
Enter  now  to  leave  me,  never,  never  more. 


SETTING   HOPES. 

THE  brief  day  is  ending; 

And  the  sun,  in  descending, 

Fires  the  heavens  with  a  ruddy  glow  ; 

Ah,  not  of  the  morn 

Was  such  beauty  born 

As  the  setting  sun  this  eve  doth  show. 

What  room  for  regretting 

Though  the  sun  be  setting 

When  the  day  'mid  such  splendor  dies  ? 

The  great  orb  of  gold 

Is  gone  to  unfold 

Its  light  in  other  and  distant  skies. 

The  hope  that  now  leaves  me 
Whose  departing  so  grieves  me 
Hath  wonderful  store  of  surprise; 
I  miss  it  with  sorrow, 
But  in  a  bright  morrow 
I  know  I  shall  see  it  arise. 


12  "GIVE    THANKS   TO  GOD." 

So  my  heart  I  am  stilling 

With  the  thought,  'T  is  His  willing 

Who  ordereth  all  for  the  best. 

I  had  joy  in  its  shining, 

Then  why  this  repining 

Because  it  now  sinks  in  the  west  ? 


"GIVE   THANKS   TO  GOD." 

GIVE  thanks  to  God  who  reigns  on  high, 
Yet  makes  our  wants  His  care ; 

He  heeds  the  hungry  raven's  cry, 
He  hears  His  people's  prayer. 

How  rich  the  promises  divine 
Which  faith  may  boldly  plead ; 

With  light  and  comfort  how  they  shine, 
How  well  they  meet  each  need  ! 


THE    FAITH    I   WANT. 

GRANT  me  a  faith,  I  pray  thee,  Father,  — 

It  must  be  gift  divine,  — 
That  will  not  weaken,  but  the  rather 
Grow  stronger,  as  it  bears    each  destined 

cross, 
Grow  richer  as  it  meets  with  seeming  loss. 

Oh,  may  such  faith  be  mine  ! 

I  want  a  faith  that  will  not  falter 

When  deepest  shadows  fall ; 
That  changing  seasons  cannot  alter, 
That  'mid  the  wildest  tempest    dwells    in 

peace, 
With    calmness  waits    the    raging    storm's 

surcease, 
And  sings  its  way  through  all. 

I  want  a  faith  that,  ever  resting 

On  God  alone  for  strength, 
May,  shock  of  battle  boldly  breasting. 


14  THE  FAITH  I  WANT. 

Fear  not  the  force  of  e'en  unnumbered  foes, 
But  fight  till  their  retreating  ranks  disclose 
The  victory  won  at  length. 

I  want  a  faith  which,  when  kept  waiting 

For  gift  it  seeks  in  prayer, 
May,  by  its  own  anticipating, 
Though  human  reason  deems  the  hope  in  vain, 
Possess  the  joy  it  covets,  nor  complain, 

Though  God  may  long  forbear. 

I  want  a  faith  whose  steady  lustre 
Shall  shed  its  cheering  rays 

Where  sorrows  do  most  thickly  cluster ; 

Whose   shining  radiance  will   the   brighter 
grow 

As  earthly  tapers  lose  their  feeble  glow, 
And  life  seems  lost  in  maze. 

I  want  a  faith  that  will  not  shiver 

When  death  says,  Come  to  God ; 
But  dauntless  meet  the  parting  river, 
Defiance  bid  to  Jordan's  rolling  tide, 
With  one  bold  stroke  its  current  turn  aside, 
And  then  go  home  dry-shod. 


THE   PENITENT'S    PLEA. 

JESUS,  see  me,  lost  and  dying, 
Unto  Thee  for  shelter  flying  ; 
Hear,  O  hear  my  heart's  sore  crying: 
Heed  me,  Jesus,  or  I  die  ! 

All  my  sin  and  sorrow  feeling, 
Come  I,  as  the  leper,  kneeling  : 
Come  to  Thee  for  help  and  healing ; 
Heal  me,  Jesus,  or  I  die ! 

Naught  have  I  to  plead  of  merit, 
Naught  but  curse  do  I  inherit ; 
By  Thy  gracious,  quick'ning  Spirit 
Save  me,  Jesus,  or  I  die! 

Not  my  tears  of  deep  contrition 
Can  secure  one  sin's  remission  ; 
Helpless,  hopeless  my  condition : 
Help  me,  Jesus,  or  I  die  ! 


1 6  THE  PENITENT'S    PLEA, 

Far  away  my  dead  works  flinging, 
Nothing  owning,  nothing  bringing. 
Only  to  Thy  mercy  clinging : 

Bless  me,  Jesus,  or  I  die  ! 

Nothing  but  Thy  mercy  pleading, 
Pardon,  cleansing,  shelter  needing, 
In  Thy  side,  once  pierced  and  bleeding, 
Hide  me,  Jesus,  or  I  die ! 

Sin-cursed  !  with  Thy  grace,  Lord,  bless  me ; 
Naked  !  in  Thy  beauty  dress  me, 
Prodigal !  in  love  caress  me  : 

Take  me,  Jesus,  or  I  die  ! 

By  Thy  cross,  where  hope  is  beaming, 
By  its  crimson  fountain  streaming, 
Flowing  for  the  world's  redeeming, 
Cleanse  me,  Jesus,  or  I  die  ! 

Save  me,  and  I  '11  praise  Thee  ever 
For  the  love  which  changes  never, 
From  which  not  e'en  death  can  sever, 
In  a  land  where  none  can  die  ! 


MY   WONDER. 

THE  more,  dear  Lord,  I  ponder 
This  wayward  heart  of  mine, 

The  more,  dear  Lord,  I  wonder 
That  Thou  hast  made  me  Thine. 

So  often  from  Thee  straying, 
So  cold  my  love  to  Thee, 

So  often  disobeying, 
And  still  Thou  lovest  me ! 

O  Thou,  the  high,  the  holy, 
And  canst  Thou  condescend, 

O  Thou,  the  meek  and  lowly, 
To  call  e'en  me  Thy  friend  ? 

Am  I  a  child  of  glory  ? 

Am  I  an  heir  of  bliss  ? 
How  strange,  O  grace,  thy  story 

Of  marvels,  marvel  this ! 


l8  LOVE'S  OFFERING. 

O  love,  all  love  excelling, 
Beyond  our  utmost  thought; 

O  grace  beyond  all  telling, 
Unmerited,  unbought; 

Since  all  for  my  soul's  saving, 
Thy  love  and  grace  are  mine, 

May  these,  like  bonds  enslaving, 
My  heart  make  wholly  Thine. 


LOVE'S   OFFERING. 

FOR  love  of  me,  dear  Jesus, 
Thy  spotless  life  was  given  ; 

For  love  of  me,  upon  the  tree 
With  spear  Thy  side  was  riven. 

For  love  of  Thee,  dear  Jesus, 
Oh,  may  my  life  be  given  ! 

For  love  of  Thee  my  heart,  oh,  see. 
Sin's  memory  hath  riven  ! 


JESUS   WEPT. 

SISTERS  of  Bethany,  had  ye  not  known  this 

grief, 
Had  there  not  come  to  you  this  hour  of 

sorrow's  smart, 
Ye  had  not  known  the  grace  that  brought 

such  sweet  relief, 

Nor    guessed  the    depth   of    pity  in  the 
Master's  heart. 

Yet  not  for  you  alone,  for  all  the  hearts  that 

bleed, 
His  loving  words  He  spake,  His  tears  of 

pity  shed, 
That  we  who  mourn  our   dying  ones,  and 

solace  need, 

Might  have  Him  with  us  weeping,  and  be 
comforted. 


2O  7ESUS    WEPT. 

We  bless  Thee  for  those  falling  tears,  O  Son 

of  God, 
That  speak  Thy  sympathy  in  every  human 

woe ; 
Since  by  our  feet  these  ways  of  anguish  must 

be  trod, 

We  firmer  step  as  we  behold  love's  foun 
tain  flow. 

How  dark  the  graves  that  in  their  fast  re 
lentless  fold 
Our  well-beloved  ones  from  our  sight  so 

long  have  kept, 
But  for   the   cheer  that  comes  with   those 

sweet  words  of  old ! 

Our  tears  are  stayed,  since  it  is  written: 
"Jesus  wept." 


PRECIOUS    MEMORIES. 

DEATH  cannot  take  the  memories 

Of  those  we  love  and  cherish ; 
Their  frames,  which  in  the  dust  we  lay, 
To  dust  may  crumble  and  decay, 
Yet  they  themselves  do  with  us  stay; 
They  do  not,  can  not  perish. 

How  potent  are  their  memories  ! 

They  make  blest  bond  of  union : 
For  oft  before  our  gladsome  eyes 
The  sweet  familiar  forms  arise, 
And  dearly  do  we  love  and  prize 

Those  moments  of  communion. 

Immortal  are  the  memories 

Of  those  whom  death  has  taken ; 

We  see  them,  hear  them,  have  them  still, 

Command  their  presence  at  our  will ; 

The  chambers  of  our  hearts  they  fill, 
They  have  not  us  forsaken. 


"COME,  LET  US  ALL,  REJOICING. 

COME,  let  us  all,  rejoicing, 

Surround  our  Father's  throne, 
Our  heartfelt  praises  voicing, 

His  grace  and  mercy  own. 
Oh,  not  in  vain  we  seek  Him, 

And  not  for  naught  we  cry ; 
For  ev'ry  want  we  bring  Him 

He  gives  a  rich  supply! 

Still,  on  His  word  believing, 

Will  we  new  favors  seek ; 
And  favors  new  receiving, 

Our  constant  praises  speak. 
For  mercies  never  ending 

Let  glad  thanksgivings  rise, 
And  prayers  and  praises  blending 

Together  reach  the  skies. 


CHRIST   CRUCIFIED. 

O  CHRIST,  by  cruel  hands  once  crucified ! 
Nor  less  of  God's  eternal  purpose  slain, 
Let  not  the  bitter  death  which  Thou  hast  died 
Be  to  my  soul  in  vain. 

Let  me  not  look  for  mercy  from  on  high, 
Save  as  it  flows  a  cleansing,  healing  stream 
Through  Thy  rent  side,  where  I  behold  Thee 

die, 
The  wide  world  to  redeem. 

Bid  me  all  other  ground  of  hope  despise, 
All  the  best  work  of  human  hands  disdain ; 
To  trust  Thine  all-atoning  sacrifice, 
Thou  Lamb  for  sinners  slain. 

Lord,  let  my  faith  be  fixed  alone  on  Thee ; 
Since  naught  hath  dye  so  deep  as  sin's  sad 

stain, 

Save  Thine  own  crimson  shed  upon  the  tree 
My  worthless  life  to  gain. 


24  CHRIST  CRUCIFIED. 

My  Lord,  I  do  believe ;  though  great  my  guilt, 

Thy  grace  is  greater ;  and  my  sin-stained  soul 

A  fountain  finds  in  Thy  life's  blood  once  spilt, 

That  makes  me  pure  and  whole. 

No  other  hope  have  I,  no  trust  but  this; 
With  emptied  hands  to  Thy  dear  cross  I  cling ; 
The  one  sole  secret  of  salvation's  bliss, 
Thy  dying  love,  I  sing. 

This,  only  this,  shall  be  my  theme  below  ; 
And  when  I  share  the  joys  of  saints  above, 
No  other  theme  my  happy  heart  shall  know 
But  this  same  saving  love. 


YOUR  HEAVENLY    FATHER 
KNOWETH. 

ALL  our  burdens,  all  our  woes, 

All  our  load  of  care, 
God  our  loving  Father  knows 

Ere  we  lift  our  prayer. 

Still  He  bids  us  on  Him  wait, 
Bids  us  seek  His  face; 

Not  in  vain  we  supplicate 
At  His  throne  of  grace. 

Not  in  vain  we  tell  each  grief 

And  our  sorrows  all ; 
For  He  waits  to  give  relief 

Unto  them  who  call. 

In  each  sorrow  we  should  see 
Summons  unto  prayer; 

Every  want  should  channel  be 
Through  which  grace  to  share. 


26  COVERED  OVER. 

Boldly  we  should  ever  plead 
With  our  God  on  high  ; 

Claim  His  promise  for  each  need, 
Sure  of  His  reply. 


COVERED   OVER. 

FAST  fell  the  snow  one  winter's  day, 
Till  hill  and  dale  were  covered  o'er, 

And  'neath  its  glistening  mantle  lay 
All  the  defects  we  saw  before. 

So  doth  God's  mercy  softly  fall 

Upon  my  life's  unsightliness ; 
So  covers  He  my  failures  all, 

So  clothes  my  soul  with  beauteous  dress. 


THE  WEEPING  SAVIOUR. 

JESUS  weeping  !     Sinner,  see ; 

Watch  His  tear-drops  as  they  fall ; 
Lo,  He  sheds  these  tears  for  thee, 

Slighting  still  His  loving  call ! 

RESPONSE. 

Jesus  weeping  !     Can  it  be 
That  He  sheds  these  tears  for  me  ? 
Lord,  I  yield,  I  yield  to  Thee. 

Jesus  bleeding!     Sinner,  see; 

On  the  cross  behold  He  dies  ; 
Sinner,  it  is  all  for  thee, 

This  is  love's  own  sacrifice. 

RESPONSE. 

Jesus  bleeding  !     Can  it  be 

That  He  sheds  His  blood  for  me? 
Lord,  I  yield,  I  yield  to  Thee. 


28  THE    WEEPING  SAVIOUR. 

Jesus  pleading  !     Sinner,  see ; 

Pleading  at  His  Father's  throne ; 
There  He  intercedes  for  thee, 

Makes  thy  worthless  cause  His  own. 

RESPONSE. 

Jesus  pleading !     Can  it  be 
That  He  intercedes  for  me? 
Lord,  I  yield,  I  yield  to  Thee. 

Weeping,  bleeding,  pleading,  see ! 

Shall  He  call  thee,  yet  in  vain? 
Let  thine  heart  now  softened  be, 

Do  not  thou  such  love  disdain. 

RESPONSE. 

Jesus,  Jesus,  can  it  be 

That  so  much  Thou  lovest  me  ? 
Lord,  I  yield,  I  yield  to  Thee. 


WHICH    SHALL   IT   BE? 

A  GLAD  New  Year  or  a  sad  New  Year, 
Oh,  which  shall  the  New  Year  be? 

I  cannot  tell  what  it  hath  in  store, 
I  would  that  I  might  foresee  ; 

But  God  knows  well  and  I  need  no  more : 
Is  that  not  enough  for  me  ? 

A  glad  New  Year  or  a  sad  New  Year ; 

What  matter  if  dark  or  light ! 
The  cloudy  pillar  will  guide  by  day, 

The  pillar  of  fire  by  night : 
With  these  to  lead  me  upon  my  way, 

How  can  I  but  walk  aright  ? 

A  glad  New  Year  or  a  sad  New  Year, 
'T  will  be  as  the  Lord  thinks  best. 

The  times  and  seasons  are  all  His  own, 
Obeying  His  high  behest ; 

He  ruleth  all  from  His  loving  throne, 
And  so  is  my  heart  at  rest. 


FOLLOWING  JESUS. 

MAN  of  Sorrows,  mighty  God, 
Thou  the  path  of  life  hast  trod, 
And  each  step  we  take,  we  meet 
Imprints  of  Thy  sacred  feet. 

Sad  indeed  Thy  lot  in  life ; 
Cruel  foes  and  ceaseless  strife, 
Pain  and  persecution  Thine, 
Man  of  Sorrows,  Lord  divine. 

When  did  soul  such  burden  bear 

As  once  wrung  from  Thee  the  prayer, 

"  Father,  if  it  so  may  be, 

Let  this  cup  now  pass  from  Me  "  ? 

Yet  we  hear  Thee  in  Thy  grief, 
Borne  to  yield  our  souls  relief, 
Saying,  O  thou  burdened  One, 
"  Not  My  will,  but  Thine  be  done  "  ! 


FOLLOWING  JESUS.  31 

Thine  for  us  the  cursed  cross, 
For  our  gain  such  direful  loss, 
From  what  burden  shall  we  shrink  ? 
Or  what  cup  refuse  to  drink  ? 

Welcome  aught  our  Father  sends, 
Since  with  all  such  grace  He  lends ! 
Welcome  e'en  the  chast'ning  rod 
In  the  loving  hands  of  God. 


THE   ANGELS'   STORY. 

ANGELIC  voices  fill  the  air 
With  golden  notes  of  music  rare, 

And  gracious  news  proclaim  : 
There  lieth  lowly  in  a  manger 
A  Guest  divine,  a  wondrous  Stranger, 

And  Jesus  is  His  name. 

What  means  this  gladsome  tale  of  old, 
The  news  by  angel  voices  told  ? 

What  means  this  lowly  birth  ? 
It  tells  of  might  and  mercy  blending, 
It  tells  of  grace  and  love  unending, 

To  all  the  sons  of  earth  ; 

It  bids  the  tear  of  grief  be  stayed, 

It  cheers  the  heart  once  sore  dismayed, 

And  blessed  hope  enthrones. 
Sin's  gloomy  cloud  at  length  is  rifted, 
The  wide  world's  weight  of  woe  is  lifted, 

And  death  its  Victor  owns. 


GOD  LIVES  AND  LOVES.  33 

Behold,  He  comes  in  manner  mild, 
For  unto  us  is  born  a  Child ; 

Yet  Son  of  God  is  He, 
For  unto  us  a  Son  is  given, 
Who  comes  with  all  the  might  of  heaven, 

The  Saviour,  Christ,  to  be. 


GOD    LIVES    AND    LOVES. 

Two  truths  our  hearts  rejoice  to  know, 
For  each  sweet  comfort  gives  : 

The  one,  the  universe  doth  show, 
'T  is  simply  told  —  God  lives. 

The  other  in  its  depths  profound 

The  cross  of  Jesus  proves; 
And  with  the  cross,  the  world  around 

Repeats  the  truth  —  God  loves. 


"ALL  THAT  THOU  SENDEST   ME." 

"  All  that  Thou  sendest  me, 
In  mercy  given." 

"  ALL  that  Thou  sendest  me, 

In  mercy  given !  " 
On  Thy  love  resting,  Lord, 
Cheered  by  Thy  gracious  word, 
Such  my  glad  song  shall  be, 
Pressing  toward  heaven. 

When  from  the  foe  I  flee, 

With  whom  I  Ve  striven, 
E'en  when  most  sorely  prest, 
Still  shall  my  heart  find  rest. 
"  All  that  Thou  sendest  me, 
In  mercy  given." 


'ALL  THAT  THOU  SENDEST  ME."        35 

When  on  life's  storm-tossed  sea 

My  bark  is  driven, 
Still  shall  my  faith  not  fail. 
Thou  rulest  wave  and  gale. 
"  All  that  Thou  sendest  me, 
In  mercy  given." 

Sorrow  may  come  from  Thee 

To  the  heart  riven ; 
Garbed  in  the  gloom  of  night, 
'T  is  but  Thine  angel  bright ; 
"  All  that  Thou  sendest  me, 
In  mercy  given." 

"  All  that  Thou  sendest  me, 

In  mercy  given," 
Helps  to  the  home  above, 
Pledges  of  endless  love, 
Seed  for  eternity, 

Harvest  in  heaven ! 


LOVE'S   MYSTERY. 

WHAT  means  it,  loving  Father, 
That  Thou  dost  care  for  me  ? 

For  me  oft  disobeying  ; 

So  often  from  Thee  straying ; 
Oh,  this  is  mystery ! 

What  means  it,  holy  Saviour, 

That  Thou  hast  died  for  me  ? 
So  great  the  debt  I  owe  Thee, 
So  poor  the  love  I  show  Thee ; 
What  may  the  meaning  be  ? 

What  means  it,  tender  Spirit, 

That  Thou  dost  dwell  with  me  ? 
With  me  of  state  so  lowly, 
With  me  so  far  from  holy  ; 
In  this  I  marvel  see. 


LOVERS  MYSTERY.  37 

Grant  me,  O  loving  Father, 

Thy  love  my  guerdon  be  ; 
To  keep  me  from  all  straying ; 
That  I,  Thy  law  obeying, 

May  henceforth  live  to  Thee. 

Grant  me,  O  holy  Saviour, 
More  faithfulness  to  Thee, 

That  by  my  love's  bright  glowing, 

I  may  e'er  more  be  showing 
Thy  life  enthroned  in  me. 

Grant  me,  O  tender  Spirit, 

That  through  Thy  grace  in  me 
I  may  become  more  lowly, 
More  pure,  more  true,  more  holy  — 
Sweet  marvel  shall  this  be. 


SOARING   UPWARDS. 

BURST,  oh,  burst  thy  prison  bars ! 

Soar  aloft,  O  soul  of  mine ; 
Seek  thy  home  beyond  the  stars, 

In  the  realms  that  are  divine  ! 

Born  of  an  immortal  birth, 
Made  a  child  and  heir  of  God, 

What  hast  thou  to  do  with  earth  ? 
Shall  the  sunbeam  court  the  clod  ? 

Streets  of  gold  thy  feet  shall  tread, 
Stand  upon  the  crystal  sea ; 

With  the  ransomed  raise  thy  head, 
Where  the  many  mansions  be. 

Not  for  thee  the  paths  of  sin, 
Fleeting  honors,  joys  of  sense  ; 

Better  honors  thine  to  win, 
Richer  far  the  recompense. 


THE  SEA'S   OWNER.  39 

Never  failing  portion  thine, 

God  Himself  thy  boundless  store ; 

Destined  thou  at  last  to  shine 
In  His  presence  evermore. 


THE   SEA'S    OWNER. 

THE  sea  is  His  ;  ah,  well  't  is  so  ! 
For  when  it  worketh  human  woe, 
It  doeth  naught  but  He  doth  know. 

Or  works  it  good,  or  works  it  ill, 

This  thought  our  restless  hearts  shall  still, 

It  worketh  aye  as  He  may  will. 


BLESSED   JESUS. 

OH  for  a  song,  a  glad  new  song, 

A  song  of  joy  and  praise ; 
To  sing  the  name,  all  names  above, 
The  name  that  tells  of  saving  love, 

The  blessed  name  of  Jesus  ! 

Oh  for  a  crown,  a  radiant  crown, 

A  crown  that  ne'er  can  fade ; 
To  crown  the  brow  of  Him  who  died, 
The  tempted  One,  the  crucified, 
The  thorn-crowned  brow  of  Jesus  ! 

Oh  for  a  heart,  a  clean,  pure  heart, 
A  heart  by  grace  renewed ; 

A  fitting  sacrifice  to  bring 

To  Thee,  O  Master,  Saviour,  King, 
Thou  blessed,  loving  Jesus. 


THE   HOUSE    OF    BREAD. 

"Jesus  was  born  in  Bethlehem"  (House  of  Bread). 
Matthe-w  ii.  i. 

THE  House  of  Bread,  suggestive  name ! 
Since  He  who  is  the  living  Bread, 
Who  died  to  raise  men  from  the  dead 
And  save  from  sin, 
Was  born  therein. 
The  House  of  Bread,  oh,  blessed  fame  ! 

Ye  famished  souls,  why  hunger  more  ? 
For  you  the  royal  feast  is  spread ; 
To  you  Christ  comes  the  living  Bread ; 
For  love's  sweet  sake, 
Bids  you  partake 
From  Bethlehem's  exhaustless  store. 


SAVE   ME    FROM    MYSELF! 

LORD,  save  me  from  my  sin, 
Not  from  its  doom  alone, 

But  let  its  giant  power  in  me, 
By  grace,  be  overthrown. 

Lord,  save  me  from  myself  — 

This  evil  heart  within  ; 
Lord,  save  me  from  myself,  for  then 

I  shall  be  saved  from  sin. 

It  is  the  foe  within 

That  makes  the  fortress  weak ; 
Myself,  my  greatest  enemy, 

For  self-control  I  seek. 

God  of  salvation,  grant 

This  liberty  to  me  ; 
Then  shall  my  purer  service  yield 

More  glory  unto  Thee. 


THE   CHURCH'S    CRY. 

ALL  down  the  ages,  Lord, 

Thy  Church  has  looked  for  Thee, 
According  to  Thine  ancient  word, 

To  come  in  majesty. 

"  I  quickly  come,  Behold  :  " 
Such  was  the  promise  clear; 

But  centuries  have  since  been  told, 
Nor  dost  Thou  yet  appear. 

Still  do  Thy  people  hope, 

Still  for  Thy  coming  cry, 
Still  with  the  powers  of  evil  cope, 

And  wish  the  day-dawn  nigh. 

What  can  Thy  "  quickly  "  mean  ? 

Our  weary  hearts  would  know ; 
Why  so  long  absent  hast  Thou  been  ? 

Why  dost  Thou  linger  so  ? 


44  THE   CHURCHES  CRY. 

Pity  each  heathen  race 

Yet  wrapped  in  midnight  gloom, 
Whose  Christless  life  leads  on  apace 

Down  to  the  Christless  tomb. 

Pity  our  "  Christian  "  lands, 
Where  greed  and  hate  prevail, 

And  evil  with  its  countless  bands 
Doth  every  good  assail. 

Thou  Sun  of  life,  arise, 

With  healing  in  Thy  wings, 

Till  earth  beneath  unclouded  skies 
Thy  worthy  praises  sings. 


THE  NEW  SONG. 

LORD,  may  I  hope  to  join  the  strain 
Of  that  ecstatic,  new-born  song 

Which  sounds  o'er  all  the  heavenly  plain, 
Sung  by  the  white-robed,  ransomed  throng 

Since  now  Thou  dost  from  me  withhold 
The  gift  in  song  Thy  love  to  praise, 

Say,  when  I  tread  yon  streets  of  gold, 
May  I  no  sound  of  music  raise? 

For  me  was  shed  the  crimson  flood 
Which  stained  the  cruel  tree  of  yore ; 

For  me,  O  Lamb  of  God,  Thy  blood 
Thou  didst  in  full  atonement  pour. 

Then  may  not  I  in  song  unite 

With  them  who  thus  Thy  mercy  own, 

Ascribe  all  majesty  and  might, 

And  joy  to  see  Thee  on  Thy  throne  ? 


46  THE  NEW  SONG. 

Or,  must  my  tongue  still  silent  be 
When  I  behold  Thy  radiant  face  ? 

Shall  still  no  part  be  found  for  me 
While  thousands  sing  Thy  saving  grace  ? 

Then,  bid  me  never  enter  there, 

Nor  count  my  soul  amid  that  throng ; 

For  to  my  heart  't  were  black  despair 
To  hear,  but  never  sing  that  song. 


THE    BREAD   AND   WINE. 

How  rich  the  story  which  they  tell  — 
The  broken  bread,  the  wine  outpoured  — 

Of  grace  that  saves  from  death  and  hell ; 
Of  love,  the  love  of  Christ  the  Lord ! 

Through  cruel  bonds  He  sets  us  free, 

Through  dreadful  gloom  to  gladness  brings ; 

He  dies  in  shame  upon  the  tree, 

Outcast,  to  make  us  priests  and  kings. 

Can  ever  soul  redeemed  forget 

How  much  He  bore  for  love  of  us  ? 

Sure,  none  may  hope  to  pay  the  debt 
To  the  dear  Lord  who  suffered  thus. 

'Mid  thoughts  of  joy  our  tears  are  shed, 
We  bless  Him  for  the  blood  He  spilt, 

Yet  mourn  the  sin  that  bowed  His  head  ; 
His  was  the  shame,  but  ours  the  guilt. 


48  THE   BREAD  AND    WINE. 

By  this  His  own  appointed  rite 
Do  we  His  love  commemorate, 

Recall  that  sad  betrayal  night, 
The  garden's  woe  and  Calvary's  fate. 

E'en  while  is  spread  before  our  eyes 
The  broken  bread,  the  wine  outpoured, 

The  pierced  form  we  recognize, 
And  joyful  cry,  "  It  is  the  Lord !  " 

Sweet  mystery  of  love  divine, 

True  meat  and  drink  by  which  are  fed 
Our  hungry  hearts  —  His  blood  the  wine, 

His  body  broken  is  the  bread. 


NO    MORE    SEA. 

As  I  sat  me  down  by  the  ocean  side, 
I  looked  with  delight  at  the  tossing  tide, 
And  the  sun  was  casting  its  golden  sheen 
On  the  sapphire  waves ;  a  glittering  scene. 
Sweet  music  I  heard  in  each  billow's  roar 
That  rolled  itself  out  on  the  sparkling  shore, 
But  my  heart  grew  sad  as  there  came  to  me 
The  thought  of  a  world  that  shall  have  no 
sea. 

As  I  lingered  still  by  the  ocean  wide, 

I  thought  of  the  friends  on  the  other  side ; 

Of  many  a  one  so  dear  to  my  heart, 

Whom   naught  but  the  waves   could  have 

kept  apart. 

They  are  far  away  on  a  distant  shore, 
And  I  sometimes  ask,  "  Shall  I  see  them  more 
Ere  we  reach  the  land  where  we  all  shall  be 
United,  for  that  has  no  parting  sea  ? " 


50  NO  MORE  SEA. 

And  I  thought  me,  too,  of  the  tempest's  wail, 
The  requiem  sad  of  many  a  sail; 
Of  the  hearts  so  true,  and  the  souls  so  brave, 
That  find  in  the  treacherous  sea  their  grave; 
Of  the  hearts  at  home  that  are  tempest-tossed 
For  the  dearly  loved  in  the  ocean  lost. 
I  am  sure  such  sorrow  there  ne'er  can  be 
In  the  world  in  which  there  is  no  more  sea. 

And  what  of  the  gems  and  what  of  the  gain 
Which  come  to  our  land  from  over  the  main  ? 
Ah,  surely  they  all  are  too  dearly  bought 
When  we  think  of  lives  into  peril  brought, 
Of  the  homes  made  sad  and  the  hearts  made 

sore 
As  they  watch  for  those  who  will  come  no 

more. 

Oh,  happy  indeed  must  that  glad  world  be 
That  knows  not  the  woes  of  the  restless  sea ! 


LOVE,   DYING   AND  UNDYING. 

JESUS,  Thy  dying  love,  Thy  love  undying, 
Hath  brought  me  sad  and  sin-worn  to  Thy 
feet ; 

And  on  Thy  gracious  word,  dear  Lord,  relying, 
I  know  Thou  wilt  the  weary  wand'rer  greet. 

Thy  dying  love !  for  I  have  seen  Thee  bleeding, 
In  pain  and  anguish,  on  the  cursed  tree ; 

Because  my  guilty  soul  such  cure  was  needing 
As  only  Thy  shed  blood  could  bring  to  me. 

Thy  love  undying !     Such  a  love  dies  never. 

Oh,  joy  that  this  rich  heritage  is  mine ! 
Lord,  take  my  heart  and  make  it  Thine  for 
ever,  — 

A  poor  return  at  best  for  love  like  Thine. 

Jesus,  Thy  dying  love,  Thy  love  undying, 
Shall  be  my  theme,  my  glory  here  below, 

Till  death  shall  loose  life's  bonds,  and,  up 
ward  flying, 
That  love  my  soul  shall  in  its  fulness  know. 


A   SONG  AT   MIDNIGHT. 

THERE  can  come  no  sorrow 
To  this  heart  of  mine, 

But  will  bring  me  pity 
From  the  heart  divine. 

There  can  fall  no  shadow 
O'er  the  way  I  wend, 

But  My  Father's  presence 
Will  its  brightness  lend. 

I  can  know  no  anguish 

But  He  has  a  part ; 
Ev'ry  woe  He  shareth 

That  can  touch  my  heart. 

In  my  grief  I  trust  Him, 
Though  I  cannot  trace  ; 

Words  of  peace  He  speaketh, 
Though  He  hides  His  face. 


A    SONG  AT  MIDNIGHT.  53 

Though  my  eyes  are  weeping, 

Though  my  soul  is  sore, 
Still  at  heart  I  praise  Him, 

And  His  grace  adore. 

Naught  can  be  my  portion 

But  His  love  doth  know  ; 
All  for  good  is  working, 

Be  it  weal  or  woe. 


NIGHT-FALL. 

SWIFTLY  the  shadows  of  the  night  around  us 

fall: 

Come,  let  us  kneel  before  our  God  and  pray ; 
And  while  on  Him  for  mercies  new  we  call, 
Praise  Him  whose  love  has  kept  us  through 
the  day. 

Not  more  of  evil  lurks  in  midnight's  hour 
Than  stalks  abroad  at  golden  tide  of  noon : 

In  both  alike  we  need  His  keeping  power. 
Could  He  forget,  then  ill  would  come  how 
soon ! 

But  He  doth  not  forget,  nor  doth  He  sleep; 

And  we  are  safe  in  His  all-watchful  care. 
By  day,  by  night  He  condescends  to  keep 

Those  who  commit  themselves  to  Him  in 
prayer. 


NIGHT-FALL. 


55 


There  is  a  home  where  shadows  never  fall, 
Nor  sin  nor  danger  ever  enter  there ; 

There  weariness  doth  ne'er  to  slumber  call,  — 
A  land  of  praise,  that  hath  no   need  of 
prayer. 

Unto  that  home,  O  Father,  lead  our  way, 
And  while  we  linger  in  this  alien  land, 

In  mercy  hear  us  while  to  Thee  we  pray, 
Still  guard   and  guide  us  by  Thy  loving 
hand. 


A   YEAR   UNTRIED. 

A  YEAR  untried  before  me  lies  : 

What  shall  it  bring  of  strange  surprise  ? 

Or  joy,  or  grief,  I  cannot  tell ; 

But  God,  my  Father,  knoweth  well. 

I  make  it  no  concern  of  mine, 

But  leave  it  all  with  love  divine. 

Be  sickness  mine,  or  rugged  health, 
Come  penury  to  me  or  wealth ; 
Though  lonesome  I  must  pass  along, 
Or  loving  friends  my  way  may  throng ; 
Upon  my  Father's  word  I  rest, 
Whatever  shall  be,  shall  be  best. 

No  ill  can  come  but  He  can  cure, 

His  word  doth  all  of  good  insure ; 

He  '11  see  me  through  the  journey's  length, 

For  daily  need  give  daily  strength. 

'T  is  thus  I  fortify  my  heart, 

And  thus  do  fear  and  dread  depart. 


A    YEAR    UNTRIED.  57 

The  sun  may  shed  no  light  by  day, 
Nor  stars  at  night  illume  my  way ; 
My  soul  shall  still  know  no  affright, 
Since  God  is  all  my  Life  and  Light. 
Though  all  the  earthly  lamps  grow  dim, 
He  walks  in  light  who  walks  with  Him. 

O  Year  untried,  thou  hast  for  me 
Naught  but  my  Father's  eye  can  see ; 
Nor  canst  thou  bring  me  loss  or  gain, 
Or  health  or  sickness,  ease  or  pain, 
But  welcome  messenger  shall  prove 
From  Him  whose  name  to  me  is  Love. 


CALLING. 

OH,  carry  thy  burden  no  longer, 

The  weight  of  thy  sin  and  thy  grief, 
But  go  unto  One  who  is  stronger, 

And  know  He  can  give  thee  relief. 
More  gentle  than  dew-drops  in  falling, 

His  voice  to  the  sad  and  opprest ; 
The  weary  and  sin-sick  He  's  calling,  — 

Is  calling  to  peace  and  to  rest. 

Why  wilt  thou  still  linger  and  languish, 

Why  starve  on  the  husks  of  the  field, 
When  Jesus  can  heal  all  thine  anguish, 

And  bread  in  abundance  cau  yield  ? 
There  's  pardon  for  all  thy  transgressing. 

And  grace  that  can  cleanse  thee  within, 
And  treasures  of  love  and  of  blessing, 

Instead  of  the  bondage  of  sin. 


CALLING.  59 

Oh,  come  to  the  One  that  is  yearning 

Thy  Saviour  and  portion  to  be  ; 
The  heart  that  awaits  thy  returning 

Once  bled  for  thy  sin  on  the  tree. 
To  know  Him  is  life  everlasting, 

To  lose  Him  is  death  evermore  ! 
And  wisdom  would  bid  thee  be  hasting, 

While  mercy  keeps  open  the  door. 


LET   US   BE   QUIET. 

LET  us  be  quiet !     What  is  there  to  gain 
By  fret  and  worry  in  this  fleeting  life  ? 

Alas  for  all  the  self-inflicted  pain  ! 
Alas  for  all  the  self-invited  strife  ! 

Let  us  be  quiet !     Winds  and  waters  wage 
In  vain  the  fiercest  conflict  ever  known; 

They  cannot  reach  a  star,  howe'er  they  rage, 
Nor  touch  the  base  of  God's  eternal  throne. 

Let  us  be  quiet  when  our  foes  conspire 
To  do  us  evil  or  to  thwart  our  good ; 

When  friends  charge  ill  to  all  our  right  desire, 
And  best  of  motives  are  misunderstood. 

Let  us  be  quiet  when  the  ghosts  arise,  — 
Those  phantom  creatures  of  night's  fevered 
brain ; 

They  fly  when  morning's  sun  illumes  the  skies, 
And  we  behold  the  world  in  light  again. 


TIME  IS  FLYING.  6 1 

Let  us  be  quiet !  Passing  years  shall  prove 
Purpose  divine  upon  our  welfare  bent ; 

True  wisdom,  hand  in  hand  with  deepest  love, 
Works  out  for  us  the  will  omnipotent. 


TIME    IS    FLYING. 

TIME  is  flying, 
Thou  art  dying, 
Mortal  man ! 

No  moments  waste, 
But  do  with  haste 

The  task  assigned, 

Or  thou  wilt  find 
When  life's  allotted  span  is  run, 
Both  task  and  soul  alike  undone. 


THE    CHILD    OF   BETHLEHEM. 

GUIDED  by  the  kindly  star, 

See  the  wise  men  on  their  way  ; 

From  their  Eastern  homes  afar, 
Seeking  Christ  the  Lord  are  they: 

Sweet  the  light  that  guideth  them 

To  the  Child  of  Bethlehem. 

Never  quite  so  wise  as  now, 

They  the  new-born  Babe  would  find  ; 
At  His  infant  feet  would  bow, 

Own  Him  Lord  of  all  mankind  : 
It  hath  been  revealed  to  them 
There  's  a  King  in  Bethlehem. 

Sages  live  in  this  our  day 

Who  the  Son  of  Mary  spurn  ; 

From  the  Christ  they  turn  away, 
In  the  Man  no  God  discern  : 

Reason's  light  ne'er  guideth  them 

To  the  Child  of  Bethlehem. 


THE    CHILD   OF  BETHLEHEM.  63 

Not  so  wise  as  they  of  old 
Are  these  sages  so  profound , 

In  their  own  conceits  grown  bold, 
Naught  to  them  is  holy  ground  : 

Ah,  there  is  no  charm  for  them 

In  the  news  from  Bethlehem! 

Highest  wisdom  mortals  show 
Who  the  God  Incarnate  own  ; 

Blest  are  they  who  Jesus  know, 
Though  naught  else  by  them  be  known : 

God's  own  light  't  is  guideth  them 

To  the  Child  of  Bethlehem. 

Still  the  star  of  truth  divine 
Guides  the  seeking  on  their  way ; 

Heed  its  light,  O  soul  of  mine, 
Lest  my  footsteps  go  astray  : 

Sad  indeed  the  fate  of  them, 

Spurning  Christ  of  Bethlehem. 


OUR   FLEETING  YEARS. 

WHY  should  we  mourn  with  useless  tears, 
Or  meet  with  dark  foreboding  fears 
These  years  that  we  are  living? 

Though  marked  the  past  with  much  of  sin, 
Whispers  no  voice  of  peace  within, 
That  tells  of  God's  forgiving  ? 

The  days  to  come,  as  yet  unshown, 
Shall  bring  abundant  cause  to  own 
That  love  divine  is  guiding. 

God  knows  us  well,  we  are  but  dust ; 
He  asks  us  only  for  our  trust, 
And  sweet  is  such  confiding. 


SAMUEL   IREN^US    PRIME, 

LIFE'S  varied  tasks  now  all  fulfilled, 

He  hears  the  Lord's  behest. 
The  busy  hand  so  strong,  so  skilled, 
That  ever  active  hand  is  stilled ; 
He  enters  into  rest. 

No  idle  rest  his  heritage  ! 

Clothed  in  immortal  might, 
The  dwellers  in  that  realm  engage 
In  blest  employment,  age  on  age, 

Unceasing  day  and  night. 

Could  he  in  service  here  below 

Bear  such  a  joyous  part, 
And  not  a  richer  service  show, 
Since  now  he  doth  more  fully  know 

The  Lord  who  ruled  his  heart  ? 


66  SAMUEL   IREN^EUS  PRIME. 

Ah,  when  we  read  the  truth  aright, 

We  do  not  mourn  our  dead ; 
Their  death  is  precious  in  God's  sight, 
It  bears  them  to  His  home  in  light, 
Where  they  are  comforted. 

The  ransomed  spirit  hath  no  tomb ; 

'T  is  but  the  body  dies. 
Begone,  dark  doubt  and  midnight  gloom, 
For  hopeless  grief  faith  finds  no  room, 

He  lives  —  beyond  the  skies. 

He  enters  life,  not  lays  it  down, 

And,  happy  triumph  won, 
He  drops  the  cross,  he  takes  the  crown ; 
And,  sweeter  far  than  earth's  renown, 

Receives  the  Lord's  "  Well  done." 


THE    RISEN    LORD. 

Lo,  a  risen  Lord  we  sing ; 

Alleluia ! 
Once  He  died,  love's  offering, 

Alleluia ! 

See  Him  death's  dark  terrors  brave, 
Dying,  dying  souls  to  save, 
Us  to  rescue  from  the  grave  ! 

Alleluia ! 

Short  within  the  tomb  His  stay, 

Alleluia ! 
Death  no  more  can  hold  its  prey, 

Alleluia ! 

Lo,  He  bled  to  meet  our  need, 
Rose  His  precious  blood  to  plead, 
Still  for  us  doth  intercede ! 

Alleluia ! 


68  THE   RISEN-  LORD. 

His  the  death,  but  ours  the  life, 

Alleluia ! 
Ours  the  victory,  His  the  strife, 

Alleluia ! 

Now  by  all  the  griefs  He  bore, 
Now  by  all  the  shame  He  wore, 
We  are  His,  forevermore  ! 

Alleluia ! 

Lo,  a  risen  life  we  bring, 

Alleluia ! 
This  our  love's  glad  offering, 

Alleluia  ! 

Souls  redeemed  and  hearts  renewed, 
Wills  to  His  sweet  will  subdued, 
These  shall  speak  our  gratitude, 

Alleluia ! 


THEN    SHALL   I   KNOW. 

I  WAIT  for  thy  revealings, 

O  blessed  land  of  light ! 
For  here  are  strange  concealings, 

And  cloud  and  gloom  and  night. 

For  I  shall  know  hereafter 
The  things  I  know  not  now ; 

Where  grief  is  turned  to  laughter, 
And  glory  crowns  the  brow. 

What  now  seems  darkest  mystery 
The  day-dawn  shall  unfold  ; 

'T  will  read  as  golden  history 
By  love  and  mercy  told. 

So  thus,  my  heart  contenting, 
My  sighs  are  lost  in  song, 

And  I,  no  more  lamenting, 
Press  cheerily  along. 


ANOTHER   YEAR. 

I  KNOW  not  what  the  year  may  bring, 

Nor  know  I  what  the  year  may  take ; 
But  take  or  bring  whate'er  it  may, 
I  know  that  there  can  come  no  day 
In  which  I  may  not  trust  and  sing, 

"The  Lord,  my  soul,  will  not  forsake.' 

His  promise  stands  forever  sure ; 

'Mid  changing  scenes  unchanging  He. 
Whatever  else  may  pass  away, 
Upon  His  word  my  faith  I  '11  stay; 
His  mercy  must  for  aye  endure, 
And  that  is  joy  enough  for  me. 

Should  care  be  mine  or  loss  of  health, 

Or  poverty  or  loss  of  friends, 
Since  the  dear  Lord  of  all  is  mine, 
My  soul  shall  never  more  repine ; 
For  happiness  conies  not  of  wealth, 
Nor  joy  on  earthly  source  depends. 


ANOTHER    YEAR. 


71 


With  God's  forgiveness  for  the  past, 

And  with  His  grace  for  days  in  store, 
Though  short  or  long  those  days  may  bt, 
The  future  hath  no  dread  for  me ; 
He  will  be  with  me  to  the  last, 
His  love  be  mine  forevermore. 

Come  bane  or  blessing,  good  or  ill, 

All  things  are  under  His  control ; 
The  boundless  universe  His  care, 
I  none  the  less  His  mercy  share, 
And  all  things  serve  to  work  His  will 
For  the  best  welfare  of  my  soul. 

So  will  I  start  the  year  with  song, 

And  bless  God's  name  from  day  to  day 
Sing  when  the  sky  is  clear  and  bright, 
Sing  'mid  the  darkness  of  the  night; 
Through  all  I  will  His  praise  prolong, 
And  praising,  pass  from  earth  away. 


WHAT   MAKES    HEAVEN. 

NOT  the  blaze  of  jasper, 
Nor  the  crystal  sea; 

Not  the  many  mansions, 
Will  make  heaven  to  me. 

Not  the  shining  lustre 
Of  the  robes  of  white ; 

Not  the  countless  glories 
Of  the  world  of  light ; 

Not  the  ceaseless  springtime, 

Nor  unfading  day ; 
Not  the  sweetest  music 

Golden  harps  may  play ; 

Not  the  many  meetings 
With  the  friends  I  love, . 

They  who  went  before  me 
To  those  realms  above,  — 


WHAT  MAKES  HE  A  YEN.  73 

But  to  meet  my  Saviour. 

At  His  feet  to  fall, 
Own  Him  my  Redeemer, 

Crown  Him  Lord  of  all. 

Him  to  worship  ever, 

His  dear  face  to  see, 
Hear  His  word  of  welcome,  — 

These  my  Heaven  shall  be. 


SLEEPING. 

:  She  is  not  dead,  but  sleepeth."  —  Luke  viii.  52. 

NOT  dead,  but  only  sleeping 

Within  their  narrow  bed, 
Safe  in  the  Saviour's  keeping ; 

Thus  are  we  comforted. 

Why  call  it  death's  dark  portal, 
Why  say  that  they  have  died 

Who  pass  to  life  immortal, 
And  with  their  Lord  abide  ? 

Say  rather  they  have  risen, 
Have  laid  their  bonds  aside, 

Have  quit  their  earthly  prison ; 
They  live,  they  have  not  died. 


THE    SOUL'S    LAMENT. 

IT  was  my  sin,  Lord  Jesus, 
That  nailed  Thee  to  the  tree ; 

It  was  my  guilt  that  'pressed  Thee 
In  sad  Gethsemane. 

My  soul  on  Thee  relying, 
In  Thy  death  findeth  life, 

And  peace  I  have  eternal, 

Through  Thy  most  bitter  strife- 

Thy  blood  secures  my  pardon, 
Thy  darkness  gives  me  light ; 

And  I,  since  God  forsook  Thee, 
Find  favor  in  His  sight. 

Yet  do  I  sin,  Lord  Jesus, 

As  though  no  grace  had  sought, 
As  though  by  blood  most  precious 

My  soul  were  never  bought. 


76  THE  SOUL'S  LAMENT. 

Sure,  heaven  beholds  in  wondei 
A  love  so  rich  as  Thine  ; 

Sure,  hell  must  see  astonished 
A  sin  so  base  as  mine. 

Cannot  Thy  cross,  Lord  Jesus. 

My  evil  heart  restrain  ? 
Or  hast  Thou  borne  its  anguish 

And  died  for  me  in  vain  ? 

'T  is  not  enough  to  pardon, 
For  more  than  this  I  pray ; 

I  crave  a  holy  hatred 
Of  every  evil  way. 

Lord  Jesus,  by  Thy  dying 
I  to  my  sin  would  die, 

And  with  Thee,  Saviour,  rising, 
No  more  in  bondage  lie. 

Lord,  I  would  bring  as  captive 
Each  thought  to  saving  love ; 

So  may  a  life  of  service 
Precede  the  life  above. 


THE    WONDROUS    CALL. 

HADST  Thou  no  burdens  of  Thine  own,  Lord 

Jesus, 
And  wast  Thou  ne'er  by  care    and    grief 

oppressed, 
That   Thou   dost    cry   to    all    earth's  weary 

millions, 
"  Come  unto  Me,  and  I  will  give  you  rest?  " 

Ah,  never  was  a  heart  so  heavy  laden, 

And  never  was  there  such  a  cross  as  Thine ; 
No  mortal  e'er  hath  known  such  deep  afflic 
tion, 

For  Thou  hast   borne   the  whole  world's 
woes  and  mine ! 

A   threefold    burden   weighed    Thee   down, 

Lord  Jesus, 

A  triple  crown  of  sorrow  Thou  didst  wear: 
God's   anger  for   Thy   people's    foul   trans 
gressions, 

Hell's  hate,  and  mortal  malice  thou  didst 
bear. 


78  THE    WONDROUS   CALL. 

O  blessed  Jesus,  all  this  sorrow  bearing, 
Acquainted  so  with  pang  and  bitter  grief, 

To  Thee,  thus  learning  fully  how  to  pity, 
We  come  to  find  a  sure,  a  sweet  relief. 

And  not  alone  bring  we  our  dark  transgres 
sions, 

But  all  life's  load  of  care  and  all  our  woe  ; 
It  is  Thy  very  sorrows,   Lord,  that  bid  us 

welcome : 

Hadst    Thou    not  wept,    our   woes    how 
couldst  Thou  know  ? 

Thy  tears  forever  tell  us  Thou  art  human, 
Thy  griefs   that  Thou  our  keenest  griefs 

canst  feel ; 
And   so    we   bring   to   Thee   our   pain    and 

anguish, 

For  Thou  dost  know  our  hurt  and  Thou 
canst  heal. 

Thus  finding  rest  for  our  own  hearts  so  weary, 
Would  we  to  those  about  us,  still  oppressed, 

Echo  Thy  winning,  wondrous  words  of  mercy, 
"  Come  unto  Me,  and  I  will  give  you  rest." 


THANKSGIVING. 

WE  give  Thee  thanks,  O  God,  this  day, 

For  mercies  never  failing ; 
Thy  love  hath  brought  us  on  our  way, 

For  all  our  wants  availing. 

No  less  that  love  hath  met  our  need 
Than  when  the  manna  falling 

Did  day  by  day  Thy  people  feed, 
To  love  and  praises  calling. 

The  smitten  rock  poured  forth  of  old 
Its  crystal  waters  gleaming  ; 

And  still  the  same  glad  tale  is  told, 
For  us  the  floods  are  streaming. 

The  seasons  come,  the  seasons  go, 
But  each  shall  find  us  singing  ; 

For  each  shall  greet  us,  well  we  know, 
New  favors  from  Thee  bringing. 


8o  STILL   SINGING. 

Through  endless  years  Thou  art  the  same, 

Thy  mercy  changes  never  ; 
Then  blessed  be  Thy  mighty  name 

Forever  and  forever. 


STILL   SINGING. 

Though  't  is  a  thorny  road  I  tread, 
And  dangers  do  the  way  attend, 

Yet  He  by  whose  dear  love  I  'm  led 
Doth  through  it  all  His  presence  lend; 

And  so  I  sing,  thus  comforted, 
There's  glory,  glory  at  the  end. 

At  times  when  clouds  my  prospect  hide, 

And  all  the  sky  is  overcast, 
I  still  upon  His  love  confide, 

And  sing  until  the  clouds  have  passed 
For  well  I  know,  whate'er  betide, 

There  's  glory,  glory  at  the  last. 


OPEN    THE   GATES. 

OPEN  the  gates,  ye  angel  bands, 

Fling  wide  the  pearly  portal ; 
A  weary  child  comes  home  to  rest, 
A  ransomed  soul  to  join  the  blest, 
And  enter  life  immortal. 

Open  the  gates  !  the  strife  is  past 

With  sin  and  sore  temptation : 
I  come  to  join  the  victor  band, 
Who  clad  in  robes  of  triumph  stand ; 
I  come  for  coronation. 

Open  the  gates,  that  I  may  see, 

In  glory  everlasting, 

The  form  once  marred  and  bruised  for  me. 
The  Lord  who  bled  upon  the  tree, 

The  death  of  Calv'ry  tasting. 


82  OPEN  THE  GATES. 

Open  the  gates,  that  dear  ones  there 

I  may  at  last  be  meeting  ; 
For  those  I  love,  gone  on  before, 
Now  sing  upon  that  blissful  shore, 
And  wait  to  give  me  greeting. 

Open  the  gates !  O  earth,  farewell ! 

My  soul  on  wings  is  flying ; 
Farewell  to  heartaches  and  to  tears, 
Farewell  to  doubts,  and  sins,  and  fears, 

Farewell,  farewell  to  dying. 


JUNE. 

MONTH  of  roses,  lovely  June, 

At  thy  coming  we  rejoice  ; 
Hearts,  with  nature  all  in  tune, 

Welcome  thee  with  songful  voice ; 
Fair  thy  bloom  nor  less  thy  fame, 
Gem  of  months  we  thee  proclaim. 

All  forgot  is  winter's  gale, 
All  forgot  its  frost  and  snow ; 

Beauty  decketh  hill  and  vale, 
Now  thy  balmy  breezes  blow  ; 

Laden  every  breath  of  air 

With  thy  perfumes  choice  and  rare. 

E'en  the  very  sea  is  calm 

'Neath  thy  soft  bewitching  skies ; 
Nature  seems  one  holy  psalm, 

Just  a  touch  of  Paradise  ; 
Tell  us,  June,  at  man's  sad  fate 
Did'st  thou  slip  through  Eden's  gate  ? 


JOYFUL   NEWS   TO   SOULS 
FORLORN. 

JOYFUL  news  to  souls  forlorn ; 
Christ  in  Bethlehem  is  born. 
Hail  the  bright,  the  blessed  morn! 

Oh,  the  marvels  of  that  birth 
Angel  voice  proclaims  to  earth  ! 
Who  shall  tell  its  wondrous  worth  ? 

Maker  of  the  earth  and  sky, 
See  Him  in  the  manger  lie  ! 
Blessed  be  His  infant  cry. 

Human  nature  see  Him  wear, 
Human  burdens  deign  to  bear, 
That  we  may  His  glory  share. 

Round  Him  now  the  helpless  press; 
Once  he  lay  in  helplessness, 
That  he  might  the  helpless  bless. 


MY  SAVIOUR'S   WORTH. 

HELP  me  sing  my  Saviour's  worth, 
Help  me  sing  of  Jesus  ! 

Help  me  tell  His  praises  forth 
All  who  love  my  Jesus. 

Loud  and  lasting  be  our  song ; 

Praises  to  His  name  belong ; 

Round  the  throne  the  seraph  throng 
Sing  the  praise  of  Jesus. 

Sing  they  may,  those  sons  of  light, 

Round  the  throne  of  Jesus  ; 
Sing  they  may  creative  might, 
Wondrous  might  of  Jesus. 
Sweeter  praises  we  can  bring, 
Richer  tribute  to  our  King, 
We  redeeming  love  can  sing, 
Oh,  the  love  of  Jesus. 


86  MY  SAVIOUR'S   WORTH. 

We  can  sing  the  blood  He  spilt, 

Precious  blood  of  Jesus  ; 
Ransomed  from  our  dreadful  guilt, 

Praise  the  blood  of  Jesus. 
We  can  sing  the  grace  that  saved, 
Sing  the  flood  from  sin  that  laved, 
Sing  the  love  that  death  has  braved, 
Mighty  love  of  Jesus  ! 

By  His  death  He  set  us  free, 

Blessed  love  of  Jesus  ; 
Can  our  lips  now  silent  be, 

Since  we  Ve  found  this  Jesus  ? 
Brethren,  help  me  sing  His  praise, 
Sweetest  notes  of  triumph  raise, 
Bless  His  name  through  endless  days, 

Jesus  !  Jesus  !  Jesus  ! 


HIS    FATHER   SAW  HIM. 

THY  Father  sees  thee,  weeping  one, 
Returning  home  by  sin  undone ; 
There  is  no  anger  on  His  brow, 
His  heart  is  filled  with  gladness  now. 

He  saw  thee  take  the  road  of  sin, 
And  mourned  to  see  thee  walk  therein ; 
He  saw  thee  down  among  the  swine, 
And  pitied  thee  when  husks  were  thine. 

He  saw  thee  when,  with  tear-filled  eyes, 
Thine  heart  exclaimed,  "  I  will  arise, 
Confess  the  sin  that  I  have  done, 
Unworthy  to  be  called  a  son." 

O  weary  heart  and  desolate, 
For  thee  doth  naught  but  mercy  wait ; 
Returning  home,  what  joy  is  thine, 
And  deeper  yet  the  joy  divine  ! 


CARED    FOR. 

"  I  only  know  I  cannot  drift 
Beyond  His  love  and  care." 

JOHN  G.  WHITTIER 

I  KNOW  not  where  my  path  may  lie 

Across  life's  trackless  deep  ; 
I  trust  my  way  to  One  on  high, 

Who  promises  to  keep. 
Where'er  it  be  He  taketh  me, 

'Neath  clouded  skies  or  fair, 
Full  well  "  I  know  I  cannot  drift 

Beyond  His  love  and  care." 

The  dark'ning  clouds,  the  rising  wave, 

For  me  can  have  no  dread  ; 
My  Father's  presence  makes  me  brave, 

While  by  His  wisdom  led  ; 
He  's  close  at  hand,  at  my  command, 

Attentive  to  my  prayer ; 
Full  well  "  I  know  I  cannot  drift 

Beyond  His  love  and  care." 


CARED  FOR,  89 

I  know  not  when  the  stormy  sea 

My  fragile  bark  may  toss  ; 
I  know  not  what  in  store  may  be, 

Of  suffering —  or  loss ; 
Whate'er  befall,  I  shall  through  all 

His  constant  goodness  share  ; 
Full  well  "  I  know  I  cannot  drift 

Beyond  His  love  and  care." 


WHY? 

O  SON  of  God !  so  great,  so  pure,  so  holy, 
What  made  Thee  leave  Thy  radiant  throne 

on  high, 

And  in  the  manger,  born  of  parent  lowly, 
A  helpless  infant  condescend  to  lie  ? 

Could  not  the  love  of   angels  round  Thee 

thronging, 

And  bright  array  of  seraph  souls  above, 
Suffice  to  fill  Thy  spirit's  deepest  longing, 
That   Thou   shouldst   come   to   seek   man's 

worthless  love  ? 

Why  didst  Thou  lay  aside  Thy  power  and 

glory, 

Why  thirst  and  hunger  in  this  desert  wild  ? 
Brighter   Thy  home  than    aught   in    Orient 

story, — 
Couldst    Thou   to   earth's    weird   waste   be 

reconciled  ? 


WHY?  gi 

Why   shouldst    Thou    bear  so  long   man's 

proud  reviling, 
The  scorn  of  those  whom  Thou  hadst  come 

to  save, 

And  in  Thy  grief  still  on  the  lowly  smiling, 
Breathe  blessings  on  Thy  pathway  to   the 

grave  ? 


Why  didst  Thou  prostrate  lie  and  moan  and 

languish, 

Beneath  Gethsemane's  dark  olive  shade  ? 
Why  did  those  lips  groan  out  such  words  of 

anguish, 
That  might  have  summoned  legions  to  Thine 

aid? 


Why  do  we  see   Thee   suffering,  bleeding, 

dying, 

As  though  Thou  wast  defeated  in  the  strife  ; 
Why  in  the  lonely  grave  behold  Thee  lying, 
O  Thou,  "  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life  "  ? 


Q2  WHY? 

'T  was  love  that  brought  Thee  through  yon 

pearly  portal, 

That  led  Thee  thus  to  live,  and  do,  and  die, 
That  man,  bereft  through  sin  of  life  immortal, 
Might  rise  to  everlasting  life  on  high. 

Moved  by  such  love,  so  great,  so  condescend 
ing. 

The  love  that  made  Thee  die,  that  we  might 
live, 

We,  at  the  throne  of  mercy  humbly  bending, 

To  Thee  our  hearts,  our  lives,  our  all  would 
give. 


FAREWELL   TO    CARE. 

0  HEART  of  mine,  from  care  be  free  ! 
Since  God,  my  Father,  cares  for  me, 
Why  should  I  longer  careful  be  ? 

1  will  the  rather  take  each  care 

To  His  dear  throne  of  grace  in  prayer, 
And  simply  leave  my  burden  there. 

Through  changing  scenes  I  '11  trust  Him  still, 
While  He  in  wondrous  love  and  skill 
Works  out  for  me  His  sovereign  will. 

What  if  I  do  not  see  His  way; 
Let  me  press  forward  day  by  day, 
His  word  my  joy,  His  grace  my  stay. 

The  stars  He  holdeth  in  his  hands, 
The  angels  wait  on  His  commands, 
My  ev'ry  need  He  understands. 


94 


FAREWELL    TO  CARE. 


This  God  of  mercy,  God  of  might, 
My  guide,  my  guard,  by  day,  by  night, 
Is  leading  me  to  realms  of  light. 

There  I  shall  reach  the  end  of  care, 
Eternal  glory  I  shall  share, 
And  robes  of  glad  rejoicing  wear. 

Since  such  a  lot  awaiteth  me, 

Since  God  hath  deigned  my  God  to  be, 

My  heart  may  well  from  care  be  free. 


EASTER   GLEAMS. 

LET  us  no  longer  call  the  grave 

A  cold,  dark  place; 

For  He  whose  grace 
Brought  Him  to  earth  our  souls  to  save 

Hath  laid  His  head 

Among  the  dead, 
And  light  into  the  tomb  hath  shed. 

Let  us  no  longer  fear  to  die ; 

For  He  once  slain, 

Who  rose  again, 
And  hath  ascended  up  on  high, 

With  mighty  blow 

Hath  felled  the  foe, 
And  in  His  dying  laid  death  lo\v 


6  EASTER   GLEAMS. 

Mourn  we  our  loved  and  lost  no  more, 

They  are  not  dead  ; 

With  Christ  their  head 
They  reign  in  glory  on  that  shore 

Beyond  the  skies, 

Where  nothing  dies, 
And  songs  of  triumph  ever  rise  ! 


PHILLIPS    BROOKS. 

"  I  want  to  live.  The  next  twenty  years  present 
the  most  glorious  opportunity  for  work  and  results 
which  the  Church  has  ever  had  in  this  country."  — 

PHILLIPS  BROOKS  to  a  friend  during  the  -week  before 
he  died. 

"Such  a  life  can  have  no  end,  and  we  have  an  abiding 
faith  that  the  Most  High  will  have  such  a  servant  in  ever 
lasting  remembrance." — Resolttfion,  Philadelphia  Pres 
byterian  Social  Union,  January  23,  1892, 

"  I  WANT  to  live,"  the  strong  soul  said ; 
But  now  is  numbered  with  the  dead. 
He  loved  his  toil,  so  glad  his  heart 
In  God's  good  work  to  bear  his  part. 
Well  might  so  great  a  soul  aspire 
To  longer  life,  and  still  desire 
To  labor  for  his  fellow-men, 
And  tell  the  story  yet  again 
Of  love  and  light  and  life  divine ; 
To  such  might  angels  well  incline. 


98  PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

He  loved  the  truth  which  set  him  free  — 
Man's  only  hope  of  liberty  — 
The  truth  with  which  his  soul  was  filled, 
Which  evermore  his  nature  thrilled ; 
The  truth  that  raised  his  soul  to  God, 
And  radiant  made  the  path  he  trod; 
Our  Father,  God ;  our  brother,  man  ; 
Salvation's  comprehensive  plan; 
The  truth  revealed  in  Jesus'  name,  — 
What  joy,  what  honor  to  proclaim  ! 

Alas,  that  now  it  must  be  said 

Of  such  a  man  that  he  is  dead ! 

His  voice  is  hushed,  his  lips  are  sealed  ; 

The   fount    that    blessed,   and   helped,  and 

healed, 

Has  ceased  its  flow.     Ah,  no  !  ah,  no  ! 
This  cannot  be  —  it  is  not  so. 

A  sweeter  light  our  faith  shall  shed, 
Nor  number  such  among  the  dead, 
And  brighter  hue  our  hope  shall  lend, 
For  "  such  a  life  can  have  no  end," 


FORWARD   GO.  99 

For  such  a  fount  must  ever  flow. 
Two  worlds  are  his,  —  above,  below ; 
With  us  his  life  doth  yet  remain, 
While  heaven  rejoices  in  its  gain. 


FORWARD    GO. 

FORWARD,  soldiers  of  the  cross, 

Forward  go ! 
Dread  not  ye  defeat  or  loss, 

Forward  go  ! 

God  Himself  shall  be  your  might ; 
Lo,  He  leads  you  in  the  fight ; 
Victory  must  crown  the  right ; 

Forward  go  ! 

Fear  not  ye  the  hosts  of  sin, 

Forward  go ! 
Strong  your  armor,  clad  therein, 

Forward  go ! 

Well  equipped  for  battlefield, 
Breastplate,  helmet,  sword,  and  shield, 
Till  your  hellish  foes  shall  yield ; 

Forward  go  ! 


A   SONG   AND   A   SOUL. 
An  incident  of  Gospel  work  in  a  city  of  New  Jersey. 

FULL  sweetly  on  the  evening  air 
Rang  out  the  well-known  strains, 

"  There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood 
Drawn  from  Immanuel's  veins, 

And  sinners,  plunged  beneath  that  flood, 
Lose  all  their  guilty  stains." 

Thus  sang  a  little  company 

Whose  hearts,  by  grace  renewed, 

Had  gathered  in  an  upper  room 
To  tell  their  gratitude 

To  Him  by  whose  atoning  love 
Their  sins  had  been  subdued. 

A  weary  man  who  passed  that  way, 
Bowed  down  with  weight  of  sin, 

Who  long  had  asked  how  such  as  he 
Relief  and  rest  might  win, 


A    SO.VG  AND  A    SOUL.  IQ 

Heard  the  glad  sound,  so  sweet,  so  clear, 
Amid  the  city's  din. 

A  wand'rer  on  that  city's  streets, 
And  bound,  he  knew  not  where, 

He  turned  aside  to  seek  the  place, 
Entered,  and  climbed  the  stair, 

Intently  list'ning,  as  he  rose, 
To  words  to  him  so  rare  :  — 

"  '  The  dying  thief  rejoiced  to  see 

That  fountain  in  his  day, 
And  there  may  I,  —  '    Oh,  what  is  this  ? 

A  '  thief,'  a  '  thief,'  they  say  ; 
'  And  there  may  I,  though  vile  as  he, 

Wash  all  my  sins  away.'  " 

As  thus  he  speaks,  the  room  he  finds, 

And,  ere  in  prayer  they  bow, 
He  cries  :  "  Oh,  friends,  for  me  so  lost, 

Plead  you  for  mercy  now." 
They  bid  him  pray :  "  Alas,"  he  says, 

"  To  pray  I  know  not  how." 


IO2  A    SONG  AND  A    SOUL. 

But,  taught  by  loving  lips  the  way, 

He  learns  to  pray  at  last, 
And  on  the  Saviour  of  the  lost 

His  weight  of  guilt  to  cast, 
As  from  his  contrite  heart  goes  up 

The  prayer  of  ages  past. 

"  O  God,  be  merciful  to  me  ! 

A  sinner,  Lord,  am  I ; 
In  my  despair  and  helplessness, 

To  thee,  O  God,  I  cry. 
Lost,  helpless,  ruined,  hear  my  prayer  ,• 

Lord,  save  me,  or  I  die." 

The  God  who  heard  the  publican 
Heard  this  heart's  honest  prayer, 

And  he  who  came  a  child  of  wrath, 
In  sorrow  and  despair, 

Went  forth  a  free  and  happy  man, 
And  God's  own  child  and  heir. 

O  ye  who  have  the  art  of  song, 
The  talent  ye  possess 


BE   MERCIFUL    TO  ME.  103 

Ye  well  may  consecrate  to  God  ; 

How  would  ye  dare  do  less  ? 
When  used  for  Him,  oh,  who  can  say 

How  greatly  He  may  bless  ! 


BE    MERCIFUL   TO    ME 

BY  law  condemned,  by  sin  undone, 
I  turn  my  eyes  to  yonder  tree, 

And  cry,  as  I  behold  Thy  Son, 
O  God,  be  merciful  to  me  ! 

Fast  bound  with  chains  I  cannot  break, 

But  ever  longing  to  be  free, 
Hear  Thou  the  earnest  plea  I  make,  — 

O  God,  be  merciful  to  me ! 


UPHOLDING   THE    FALLEN. 
"  The  Lord  upholdeth  all  that  fall."—  Psalms  cxlv.  14 

OH,  deem  thou  not   that   God  is   with   the 

victors  only, 
And  with  the  tempted  and   defeated  not 

at  all ! 

His  pity  is  the  deepest  for  the  sorely  tempted, 
His  mercy  is  most  tender  unto  them  who 
fall. 

He  is  a   God  of  strong  and  infinite  compas 
sion, 
And  His  compassion  flows  most  richly  to 

the  weak ; 
Our  weakness,  not  our  strength,  our  need  and 

not  our  fulness, 

Do  ever  move  Him   most  when  grace. to 
help  we  seek. 


UPHOLDING   THE  FALLEN.  105 

Take  comfort,  tempted  one,  in  conflict  never 

ceasing ; 
Lean  less  upon  thyself,  and  lean  on  God 

the  more ; 
So  shalt  thou  surely  find  Him  faithful  that 

hath  promised, 

Whose  word   doth  bid  thee  hope  for  tri 
umph  yet  in  store. 

Oh,  learn  to  know  thyself,  so  sinful  and  so 

helpless, 
And  learn  to  find  in  Him  thine  all-sufficient 

strength  : 
'T  is  worth  the  cost  of  tears,  of  failures,  and 

of  anguish, 

If  this  all-needful  lesson  thou  but  learn  at 
length. 

And  see   that  thine   own   weakness   makes 

thee  tender-hearted, 

Nor  look  with  glance  of  scorn  on  those 
who,  tempted,  fall, 


IO6  UPHOLDING   THE  FALLEN. 

But  learn  to  speak  the  word  of  hope  unto 

the  hopeless ; 

Let  thy  life's  bitter  lesson  helpful  thoughts 
recall. 

Oh,  give  us  of  Thy  spirit,  ever-loving  Father, 
For  in  our  lesser  measure  we  would  love 

like  Thee ; 
And  knowing  for  ourselves  Thy  grace  and 

tender  pity, 

To  erring  ones  about  us  would  more  tender 
be. 


WELL   MET. 

I  HAVE  need  of  Thee,  Lord  Jesus, 

Without  Thee  I  must  die  ; 
It  needeth  grace  as  rich  as  Thine 
To  pardon  guilt  as  dark  as  mine, 
To  cleanse  and  sanctify. 

Thou  hast  need  of  me,  Lord  Jesus, 

Thy  grace  to  magnify ; 
It  taketh  guilt  as  dark  as  mine 
To  show  how  rich  that  love  of  Thine 

Which  brought  Thee  from  on  high. 

I  have  need  of  thee,  Lord  Jesus, 

To  heal  sin's  deadly  smart ; 
A  smitten,  wounded,  dying  soul, 
Thy  grace  alone  can  make  me  whole. 
And  health  and  strength  impart. 


IO8  WELL   MET. 

Thou  hast  need  of  me,  Lord  Jesus, 

In  me  to  show  Thy  skill ; 
It  needs  a  soul  sore  bruised  as  mine 
To  honor  healing  skill  like  Thine, 

That  saves  from  sin's  dire  ill. 

It  is  well  indeed,  Lord  Jesus, 

That  Thou  and  I  have  met; 
A  greater  sinner  never  breathed, 
So  great  a  Saviour  ne'er  was  wreathed 
With  crown  of  glory  yet. 


DEATH'S    SUBMISSION. 

O  DEATH,  thou  art  a  tyrant  bold, 
Remorseless,  reckless,  cruel,  cold ; 
For  griefs  unnumbered,  tears  untold, 

Thy  deeds  have  set  a-flowing. 
So  speak  our  fears  ;  our  hopes  not  so ; 
A  better  world  than  this  below 
Gives  hope  more  light,  more  truth  to  know 
Sweet  truth  with  promise  glowing. 

The  forms  of  loved  ones  in  the  dust 
We  lay,  not  merely  that  we  must, 
But  with  a  sense  of  perfect  trust 

That  this  is  not  the  ending. 
Within  the  tomb  the  Saviour  lay 
Till  dawned  the  blessed  Easter  day, 
When  forth  he  rose  to  live  for  aye, 

The  bonds  sepulchral  rending. 


HO  DEATH'S  SUBMISSION, 

So,  too,  we  die,  that  we  may  rise ; 
Each  day,  each  moment  as  it  flies, 
But  brings  us  nearer  to  the  skies, 

And  nearer  life  immortal. 
Sweet  in  God's  sight  the  death  of  saints, 
And  these  for  whom  our  spirit  faints, 
Whose  loss  we  mourn  with  sad  complaints, 

Have  passed  the  heavenly  portal. 

Within  that  Home,  surpassing  bright, 
Their  souls,  with  God,  in  rich  delight, 
Rejoice,  in  day  that  knows  no  night, 

And  never-fading  pleasure. 
The  very  dust  they  left  behind, 
The  dust  which  we  to  dust  resigned, 
Shall  God's  dear  angels  bear  in  mind, 

A  precious,  sacred  treasure, 

Until  the  trump  the  clouds  shall  rend, 
Till  Christ  shall  in  His  might  descend, 
Till  faith  in  full  fruition  end, 
And  death  in  resurrection. 


DEATH'S  SUBMISSION.  m 

Then,  fairer  far  than  e'er  before, 
Their  forms  shall  rise,  to  die  no  more, 
And  to  our  hearts  the  grave  restore 
These  objects  of  affection. 

So  speak  our  hopes,  and,  'mid  our  tears, 
Athwart  the  cloud  the  bow  appears, 
And  we  dispel  our  foolish  fears, 

Our  faith  our  songs  inspiring. 
So,  Death,  thou  art  no  monster  cold, 
No  tyrant  stern,  remorseless,  bold ; 
God's  messenger,  thou  dost  enfold 

Our  loved  in  heaven's  attiring. 


EASTER  JOY. 

LET  Easter  music  rend  the  air, 

And  Easter  gladness  fill  the  heart ; 
Ring  out,  ye  bells,  the  tidings  bear, 
To  all  the  world  the  news  impart,  — 
The  Lord  hath  triumphed  o'er  the  grave, 
He  reigns  in  might,  in  might  to  save. 

For  our  offences  He  was  slain, 

His  blood  for  sin's  atonement  shed, 
That  we  might  life  eternal  gain 
Who  once  were  numbered  with  the  dead. 
The  Lord  hath  triumphed  o'er  the  grave, 
He  reigns  in  might,  in  might  to  save. 

The  manger  and  the  cross  we  sing, 

His  lowly  birth,  His  death  in  shame; 
But  louder  shall  our  praises  ring, 
His  rising  glory  to  proclaim. 

The  Lord  hath  triumphed  o'er  the  grave, 
He  reigns  in  might,  in  might  to  save. 


SEEKING   AFTER   GOD. 

As  seeks  the  silver  stream  the  sea 
In  ever  constant  onward  flow, 
My  soul  upon  its  course  would  go 
Till  all  absorbed,  dear  Lord,  in  Thee. 

As  seeks  the  burning  flame  the  skies, 
The  source  from  which  it  has  its  birth, 
So,  too,  my  soul,  released  from  earth, 
To  Thee,  the  source  of  life,  would  rise. 

As  seeks  the  weary  bird  its  nest 
When  night  o'ertakes  the  busy  day. 
So,  when  life's  tasks  I  put  away, 
I  ask  in  Thee  to  find  my  rest. 


ONE    ONLY   WAY. 

ONE  cross  and  only  one, 
One  Christ  and  one  alone, 
One  hope  for  man  by  sin  undone, 
One  blood  that  can  atone. 
That  cross  the  cross  of  Jesus  ; 
That  Christ,  the  Christ  who  bled ; 
That  only  hope  the  crimson  flood 
Which  He  for  sinners  shed. 

One  only  saving  name, 

One  justifying  plea, 

One  answer  to  the  law's  stern  claim, 

One  hiding-place  for  thee. 

That  name  the  name  of  Jesus, 

That  hiding-place  His  side, 

Thine  answer  to  the  law's  demands 

Thy  plea,  "  The  Christ  hath  died." 


THE    CALL    ANSWERED. 

"  COME  unto  Me,"  O  precious  words, 

I  hear  the  Saviour  saying; 
He  calls  the  weary  ones  to  rest, 
He  calls  the  toil-worn  and  oppressed, 
He  calls  the  lost  and  straying. 

"  Come  unto  Me,"  O  gracious  words, 
Such  tender  love  displaying  ! 

Dear  Lord,  I  come  —  no  merits  mine. 

I  come  to  trust  Thy  love  divine ; 
I  come,  Thy  call  obeying. 

"  Come  unto  Me,"  O  cheering  words, 
That  end  my  sore  dismaying ; 

Lord,  I  believe ;  I  cannot  doubt ; 

Thou  wilt  in  no  wise  cast  him  out 
Who  comes  for  mercy  praying. 


Il6  OH,    BLESS    THE   LORD  I 

"  Come  unto  Ale,"  O  welcome  words, 

All  fear  and  terror  slaying ; 
Thy  blood  can  cleanse  each  stain  of  sin, 
Thy  grace  can  give  me  peace  within  ; 

I  come,  no  more  delaying. 


OH,    BLESS    THE   LORD! 

OH,  bless  the  Lord,  my  soul ! 

'T  is  well  indeed  to  pray  ; 
To  seek  His  guidance  and  control 

Along  life's  twisted  way ; 

But  thou  hast  cause  to  bless, 
To  mingle  praise  with  prayer, 

His  ceaseless  mercies  to  confess 
Who  makes  thy  world  His  care. 


TRUST    IN    SHADOW   TIME. 

THE  darkness  is  around  me,  O  my  Father ; 
But  I  press  on :  no  light  I  need, 

For  Thou  dost  lead 
Through  all  the  way  by  love  decreed. 
And  if  Thou  show  it  not, 
And  so  I  know  it  not, 
But  all  my  life  must  walk  a  path  unseen, 
I  will  keep  nearer  Thee,  and  harder  lean. 

I  feel  Thy  hand  enclasp  me,  O  my  Father, 
And  so  I  pass,  with  voice  of  song, 

My  way  along ; 

My  theme  Thy  love  so  rich,  so  strong. 
Since  Thou  art  near  to  me, 
There  comes  no  fear  to  me ; 
Sweet  peace  have  I,  since  God,  my  Father, 

knows, 
And  will,  to  meet  each  need,  His  love  disclose. 


Il8          TRUST  IN  SHADOW  TIME. 

Full  sweet  it  is  to  trust  Thee  thus,  my  Father, 
And  know  that  through  the  seeming  ill, 

Thou  workest  still, 
To  bring  about  Thy  gracious  will. 

Here,  Thou  dost  care  for  me; 
Yonder,  prepare  for  me 

A  mansion  blest,  in  realms  of  fadeless  light, 
Where  faith's  reward  shall  be  unending  sight. 


FOR  YOU. 

THINK  of  this,  O  child  of  God, 
Often  weary,  sad  and  worn ; 

Paths  of  sorrow  thou  hast  trod, 
Oft  thine  heart  with  grief  is  torn. 

God  Almighty  on  His  throne 

Thinks  of  thee  and  thinks  for  good, 

Cares  for  thee,  as  though  alone 
Thou  wert  His  solicitude. 

Blessed  is  the  word  divine, 

Word  for  thee,  poor,  troubled  soul; 
What  of  burden  may  be  thine 

On  the  Lord  it  bids  thee  roll. 

Though  the  tears  thine  eye  bedim, 
Read  that  word,  so  sweet,  so  true : 

"  Casting  all  your  care  on  Him, 
For  He  careth,"  yes,  "  for  you." 


CHRIST   NEGLECTED. 

O  MY  soul,  thou  heir  of  glory, 

When  wilt  thou  be  weaned  from  earth  ? 
Hast  thou  clean  forgot  the  story 

Of  thy  wondrous  heav'nly  birth  ? 

What  of  earth  were  worth  the  getting, 
If  no  Saviour's  love  were  thine? 

What  of  loss  is  worth  regretting, 
If  to  thee  the  Lord  incline  ? 

All  the  glow  of  earthly  pleasure 
In  His  presence  groweth  dim; 

Sad  the  cost  of  earthly  treasure, 
If  to  win  it  loses  Him. 

Yet  behold  Him  standing,  knocking, 
Waiting  at  thy  cold  heart's  door  ; 

Wilt  thou  not,  the  door  unlocking, 
Bid  Him  cross  its  threshold  o'er  ? 


CHRIST  NEGLECTED.  121 

Comes  there  no  immortal  yearning, 

Spark  of  some  celestial  fire, 
Which,  to  Him  thy  spirit  turning, 

Fills  the  soul  with  strong  desire  ? 

Was  there  ever  lover  like  Him,  — 
Patient,  tender,  faithful,  true  ? 

Still  He  waits;  the  night-damps  strike  him: 
Lo,  His  locks  are  filled  with  dew ! 

In  His  hands  are  treasures  many  ; 

Is  He  not  the  King  of  kings? 
Better  far,  my  soul,  than  any 

Of  His  gifts,  Himself  he  brings  ! 

O  my  Lord,  I  bid  Thee  enter; 

Moved  by  love's  resistless  plea, 
Thou  circumference  and  centre 

Of  my  life  henceforth  shall  be. 


FALLING   LEAVES. 

AROUND  me  fly  the  falling  leaves ; 
In  vain  their  fate  my  spirit  grieves, 
For  Nature  grants  us  no  reprieves. 

Throughout  the  world  she  holds  her  sway, 
Her  laws  must  men  and  leaves  obey, 
From  dust  they  spring,  to  dust  decay. 

Yet  while  this  requiem  we  sing, 

Our  faith  looks  forward  to  the  spring 

That  shall  the  Resurrection  bring. 

Back  to  the  earth,  for  earth's  own  sake, 
The  falling  leaves  themselves  betake, 
But  soon  in  beauty  shall  awake. 

Awhile  they  mingle  with  the  soil, 

Till  Nature's  unremitting  toil 

Shall  reproduce  with  naught  of  moil. 


FALLING  LEAVES.  123 

As  fall  the  leaves  our  dear  ones  fall, 
When  comes  to  each  the  silent  call ; 
Nor  long  the  grave  shall  them  enthrall. 

Ah,  why  begrudge  them  nature's  sleep  ? 
Why  deem  the  grave  so  dark,  so  deep, 
Or  tears  of  hopeless  sorrow  weep  ? 

For  sleeping  mortals  comes  the  spring, 
And  joy  with  morn's  awakening ; 
Immortal  life  the  day  shall  bring. 

E'en  death  is  part  of  Nature's  plan, 
And  hath  been  since  the  world  began,  — 
Sweet  death,  unerring  friend  of  man. 

Such  are  the  thoughts  my  fancy  weaves 
With  brightest  hues  of  falling  leaves  ; 
No  more  my  thoughtful  spirit  grieves. 


THE   LIFE   I    SEEK. 

NOT  in  some  cloistered  cell 
Dost  Thou,  Lord,  bid  me  dwell, 

My  love  to  show ; 
But  mid  the  busy  marts 
Where  men  with  burdened  hearts 

Do  come  and  go. 

Some  tempted  soul  to  cheer, 
When  breath  of  ill  is  near, 

And  foes  annoy ; 
The  sinning  to  restrain ; 
To  ease  the  throb  of  pain,  — 

Be  such  my  joy. 

Lord,  make  me  quick  to  see 
Each  task  awaiting  me, 

And  quick  to  do  ; 
Oh,  grant  me  strength,  I  pray, 
With  lowly  love  each  day, 

And  purpose  true, 


LOVE'S   WAY.  125 

To  go  as  Jesus  went, 
Spending  and  being  spent, 

Myself  forgot ; 
Supplying  human  needs 
By  loving  words  and  deeds, 

Oh,  happy  lot ! 


LOVE'S    WAY. 

STEP  by  step  and  day  by  day, 
Is  this  love's  appointed  way  ? 
Faith  will  gladly  love  obey. 
Since  the  love  is  love  divine, 
Let  it  be  no  care  of  thine 
What  the  path  love  may  design. 


THE    CRY   OF   THE   HUNGRY. 

"  Lord,  evermore  give  us  this  bread."  — John  vi.  34. 

LORD,  evermore  this  living  bread  bestow, 
For  this  alone  can  meet  our  souls'  deep 

need; 

Thou  art  our  life,  to  whom  else  can  we  go  ? 
Thy  blood   is   drink,  Thy  flesh   is   meat 
indeed. 

Lord,  evermore  this  living  bread  bestow, 
And  thus  to  us  eternal  life  impart. 

The  world  at  best  hath  but  the  husks  to  show; 
These  cannot  fill  the  hungry  human  heart. 

Lord,  evermore  this  living  bread  bestow, 
That  while  it  feeds  doth  make  us  long  for 

more ; 

More  of  Thy  gracious  fulness  may  we  know, 
More  of  Thy  wondrous  love's  exhaustless 
store. 


BLESSED   TEARS. 

I  'VE  welcomed  tears  e'er  since  the  day 

I  saw  that,  by  and  by, 
God's  own  dear  hand  will  wipe  away 

The  tears  from  ev'ry  eye. 

And  I  have  learned  to  welcome  grief, 
For  grief  doth  bring  me  grace  ; 

I  should  not  know  the  Lord's  relief, 
Had  woe  with  me  no  place. 

God's  compensation  is  so  sweet, 
No  more  I  shrink  from  pain ; 

With  fortitude  each  loss  I  meet, 
Since  He  gives  richer  gain. 

As  golden  stars  shine  out  at  night, 

That  are  not  seen  by  day, 
His  promises  shed  brightest  light 

When  sorrow  clouds  my  way. 


LET    US    GIVE   THANKS. 

LET  us  give  thanks !     To  praise  the  Lord  is 

meet; 
His  streams  of  love  and  mercy  ceaseless 

flow. 

Unto  His  courts,  oh,  come  with  willing  feet, 
Your  fervent  hearts  with  gratitude  aglow. 

Let  us  give  thanks  !    There  have  been  clouded 

days, 
And  days  of  gloom,  that  hid  Him  from  our 

eyes ; 

But  grief  at  times  doth  call  for  loudest  praise, 
And  sorrows  oft  are  blessings  in  disguise. 

Let  us  give  thanks!  for  winter's  storms  no 

less 

Than  summer's  glow  or  autumn's  fruitful 
tide. 


LET  US  GIVE    THANKS  129 

From  one  dear  hand  they  come,  and  come  to 

bless  ; 

Though  seasons  change,  love's   purposes 
abide. 

Let  us  give  thanks !     Nor  forward  look,  nor 

back, 

Need  serve  to  stay  a  single  strain  of  praise. 
Our  Shepherd  God,  no  good  thing  can  we 

lack; 

We  shall  have  cause  to  bless  Him  all  our 
days. 


THE   SEA   IS   HIS. 

THE  sea  is  His,  He  made  it  all: 
He  made  its  tides  that  rise  and  fall, 
The  ripple  that  kisses  the  silvery  strand, 
The  billow  that  lashes  the  foam-swept  land ; 

He  holdeth  all, 

Both  great  and  small, 
Within  the  hollow  of  His  hand. 

The  sea  is  His,  it  works  His  will ; 
And  when  He  calleth,  "Peace  be  still," 
The  billows  are  hushed  in  a  calm  repose, 
And  hushed  is  the  stormiest  wind  that  blows. 

He  sets  His  bound 

The  sea  around, 
And  ocean  well  its  limit  knows. 

The  sea  is  His,  He  knoweth  well 
Each  tale  its  waves  refuse  to  tell ; 


THE   SEA    IS  HIS.  131 

The  secrets,  so  long  in  its  bosom  sealed, 
At  last,  ay,  at  last,  they  shall  be  revealed. 

What  stories  old 

Shall  be  unrolled 
Of  smitten  hearts  that  ne'er  were  healed ! 

The  sea  is  His,  and  all  the  dead 
For  whom  its  depths  have  found  a  bed ; 
Not  one  of  the  host  the  sea  shall  keep, 
When  God  awakens  all  them  who  sleep  -. 

Beneath  His  eye 

Are  all  that  lie 
Buried  beneath  the  whelming  deep. 

The  sea  is  His,  it  gives  Him  praise ; 
Their  voice  the  crested  billows  raise,  — 
To  earth  and  to  heaven  His  might  they  tell ; 
And  boisterous  winds  do  the  chorus  swell. 

This,  this  the  strain 

Of  wind  and  main  : 
He  ruleth  all,  He  ruleth  well. 


BE   STILL. 

DEAR  troubled  soul,  be  still,  be  still, 

God  knoweth  best ; 
Calmly  accept  His  loving  will, 

So  cometh  rest. 

His  purposes  thou  canst  not  see, 

'T  is  thine  to  trust ; 
He  never  will  unmindful  be 

That  thou  art  dust. 

Thy  trials  shall  but  spell  His  love 

In  lines  of  light; 
The  darkest  providence  shall  prove 

An  angel  bright. 

He  with  His  own  hath  ever  stood, 

To  shield  from  ill, 
For  He  is  God,  and  God  is  good ; 

All  hail  His  will! 


IN    THE   REALMS    OF    LIGHT. 

FAR  beyond  this  world  below, 
With  its  sin  and  want  and  woe, 
Is  the  home  to  which  I  go 
In  the  realms  of  light. 

Things  that  tempt  me,  things  that  try, 
Things  that  make  me  weep  and  sigh, 
I  shall  leave  them,  by  and  by, 
For  the  realms  of  light. 

Robed  in  glory,  I  shall  see 
Him  who  bled  and  died  for  me  ; 
Dwell  with  Him  eternally 
In  the  realms  of  light. 

Though  a  while  the  cross  be  borne, 
Pilgrim  garb  a  while  is  worn, 
Soon  shall  rise  the  cloudless  morn 
In  the  realms  of  lijrht. 


134      IN  THE  REALMS  OF  LIGHT- 

Blessed  hope  so  full  of  cheer, 
Blessed  faith  that  stifles  fear  ! 
Blessed  city  drawing  near, 
In  the  realms  of  light. 


THE   END. 


X  . 


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